Chapter 21
Levi
Thanksgiving morning dawns bright and clear, the kind of perfect November day that makes you grateful to live in Alabama. Cool enough to need a jacket, warm enough to enjoy being outside.
Magnolia’s been up since before dawn, finishing last-minute orders.
I found her in the kitchen at five a.m., carefully boxing up chocolate-covered strawberries, her hair piled on top of her head, wearing one of my old Fish and Wildlife hoodies.
I love the way she looks in my clothes, and if it were up to me, that’s all she’d wear.
“Morning,” I’d said, and she’d jumped, nearly dropping the box.
“Jesus, Levi. You scared me.”
The way her eyes had darkened made me wonder how many times Cody had taken it upon himself to sneak up on her like that, and scare her just out of spite.
“Sorry.” I moved into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You need help?”
“Almost done, actually. These are all for one order, and they’ll be here in the next ten minutes. The other one, I’m taking to your grandparents.”
“Ohhh,” I gaze over and see what she’s put in there. “The Harrison fam is going to love all of that.”
“I know.” She grins. “Different family members of yours have been ordering from me for a while, and I made sure to make their favorites. By the way, I know yours is homemade cinnamon rolls.” She tilts her chin toward a pan on the counter.
“Figured we could make a special breakfast.” Her cheeks turn pink.
“Kind of a memory for our first Thanksgiving we’re spending together. ”
The fact that she wants to mark this as a first gives me a nervous feeling in my stomach, but not one of dread, one of hope. Maybe we’ll spend the rest of our Thanksgiving holidays together. “Thank you,” I tell her, my voice thick. “I’m gonna love them.”
She beams. “I hope you will.”
Hours later, after several cups of coffee, and those cinnamon rolls, we’re both getting ready for Thanksgiving at my grandparents’ house.
Magnolia’s in my bathroom, and I can hear her moving around, the sound of her humming to herself makes me smile.
I’ve never had these moments before. Especially since I’ve never allowed a woman to spend more than one night.
When she comes out, my breath catches.
She’s wearing a deep green sweater dress that hugs her curves, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She’s done something to her eyes that makes them even bluer, and when she catches me staring, a blush colors her cheeks.
“Too much?” she asks, suddenly self-conscious, running her hands along her thighs, accentuating them.
“Perfect,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend. “You look perfect, Magnolia Grace. Let’s get out of here, we need to be there in about twenty minutes.”
She grabs the dessert we’re taking over, and I help her into my truck, shutting the door while I wait for her to buckle herself in. When I get into the driver’s seat, I glance over at her. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be. Thank you for helping me.”
“You never have to thank me. I wanna be the man in your life, and this is how you do it. Cody’s a dumbass.”
Leaning over, I take her lips with mine, before I pull back and start the truck.
The drive to my grandparents’ house is short, and I spend most of it sneaking glances at her. She’s nervous—I can tell by the way she’s fidgeting with her hands, the way she keeps taking deep breaths.
“Hey,” I say, reaching over to take her hand. “It’s just my family. They love you.”
“I know,” she says softly. “But things feel different now. I feel different.”
“Different how?”
She turns to look at me, and there’s something in her eyes that makes my heart race. “Just…different.”
We pull up to my grandparents’ house, and already I can see cars lining the driveway. Dad’s truck, Aunt Kelsea’s SUV, Molly’s car. The whole family’s here.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yeah, I know them. This is just me being nervous, and that’s on me, not them.”
We walk in together, and immediately we’re enveloped in the chaos that is a Harrison family holiday. My grandmother Karina pulls Magnolia into a hug, my grandfather claps me on the back. My mom appears out of nowhere with a glass of wine for Magnolia, my dad asks if I want a beer.
It’s loud and warm and exactly what family should be.
Molly finds us about ten minutes later, her eyes sharp as they move between me and Magnolia. “Hey, you two.”
“Hey, sis.”
She pulls me aside while Magnolia’s talking to my mom. “What’s going on with you and my best friend?”
“Nothing,” I say, which isn’t exactly a lie. We haven’t defined what we are. “I’m just helping her out. With everything going on with Cody, she needed a safe place to stay.”
Molly’s expression softens. “That’s really sweet of you, Levi.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to her,” Molly says quietly. “She doesn’t let people help her. The fact that she’s letting you…that means more than you know.”
Before I can respond, we’re being called to dinner.
The dining room table is massive, stretching the length of the room, covered in food that my grandmother and various family members have probably been preparing for days. Turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, rolls, and my favorite, mac and cheese.
I end up sitting next to Magnolia, and across from my cousins Ella and Darren. My aunt Kelsea and uncle Nick are down at the other end, deep in conversation with my parents.
Ella is much younger than her brother, and I’ve always held a soft spot for her, so when she asks a question, I listen. “Why is your beard so busy?” She asks, tilting her head to the side. She’s the youngest of all of us Harrison kids, but we all like to indulge her.
“Because I’ve gotten lazy with it,” I answer her.
Darren rolls his eyes. Even though he loves the hell out of her, the age-gap sometimes is a bit much. “How’s work?”
“Good,” I say carefully. I can’t tell them about the undercover operation, but I also don’t want to lie. “Busy.”
“I bet,” Darren chimes in. “Fish and Wildlife keeping you on your toes?”
“Always. When are you going to come join us?” He’s just spent a year with the SWAT team in Birmingham.
“I’m thinking about it,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate further.
Magnolia’s leg presses against mine under the table, and I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not, but I leave mine where it is, taking comfort in the warm touch.
After dinner, we all migrate to the living room to watch the Alabama game. My grandfather has it turned up way too loud, my grandmother fussing that he’s going to wake the neighbors.
Molly settles on the floor next to Magnolia’s feet, and I see them exchange a look. Then Molly glances at me, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“So Levi,” she says casually. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Magnolia lately.”
“Just helping out a friend,” I repeat, keeping my voice level.
“Uh huh.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she lets it drop.
Alabama scores a touchdown, and the room erupts in cheers. In the chaos, Magnolia leans in close, her lips nearly brushing my ear.
“I forgot how cool your family is,” she whispers.
“They’re yours too,” I whisper back.
She pulls back to look at me, and a beat passes between us. One that, whether we’re ready for it or not, I assume means we’re deeper into this than we’ve realized.
The game continues, my family’s laughter filling the house, and I think about how many Thanksgivings I’ve spent in this room. How many holidays, how many birthdays, how many ordinary Sundays.
And none of them have been as special as this one.